The Result of Tension
by katierosefun
Summary: The Doctor and Clara Oswald are furious with each other. So furious, in fact, that they both end up on the ground. [Rated T only because of a kiss deliverance and possible mature suggestions. Whouffaldi.]


**So, this is definitely the first time I think I've ever written something as risky as this. And by risky, I mean stepping out of the fluffy romance zone. Don't know. To be quite honest, I suppose this wouldn't even border the 'outside-fluff-zone', but to me, it was because I've never really written about any other kind of romance. **

**...but I sort of think this would happen to Clara and the Doctor. I mean, it's WHOUFFALDI. How could it NOT happen? Enjoy! **

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><p><em>The Result of Tension <em>

"I'm not even _talking _to you anymore!"

"Ooh, are you so sure of that, Miss Perfect? Last time I checked, you're _still talking!_"

"I – what – just _shut up!_ Leave me _alone!_"

"Why don't you leave _me _alone? You're in _my _TARDIS!"

"Yes, well, you're in _my _flat!"

Clara Oswald stormed down to the console room, her face heated up and stormy from shouting at the Doctor. He was an arrogant, cocky, _prick_, and Clara was absolutely _sure _that if she delivered the right words, the Doctor would realize that himself and _stop being so…_gah, Clara couldn't even find the right word for it anymore. That's what would happen whenever she was angry with someone – she would come up with _all _of these arguments but it wouldn't be until after the actual fight would she come up with the best comebacks.

Still, Clara figured she could make do with what time she had now.

"Yes, well, I can't exactly park anywhere else, can I? Oh-ho-ho, I bet you would just _love _explaining to _everyone else _about an alien going in and out of your flat from _outside_ –" the Doctor was retorting when Clara whirled around and jabbed a finger at his chest. Glowering, she hissed, "You. Quiet. Now." She pointed back at the doors and said, "_I'm _going to walk out and _pretend _that my life is still normal and _not _taken over by an egomaniacal stick bug. Do you understand?"

"_Egomaniacal stick bug?_" the Doctor asked incredulously. "Look who's talking!"

Clara's arms flapped about wildly as she shouted, "I am _not _egomaniacal!"

"I beg to differ," the Doctor murmured. Unfortunately for him, Clara heard that. She took a step closer to the Doctor, her face inches away from hers. "Says the man – oh, wait, no, _alien _– who is _obsessed _with making sure that _he's _always right," she snapped. The Doctor – to his credit – didn't back down. He held the glare icily, replying, "Says the _woman _who thinks that _everything _needs to be in _her _control so that her little world wouldn't go spinning away."

Clara's mouth dropped open, unsure how to respond. Truth was, that comment hurt. Then again, who _wouldn't _be stung by something like that?

_Especially if it was true? No, Clara, move away from that. Move away from that topic – you do not want to go there. That's it. Slow and steady, girl._

Well. When all words fail, Clara knew what else to resort to.

Harrumphing, Clara swung her leg and gave the Doctor's shins a good, hard kick. A brief smug smile flashed across her face as the Doctor instantly cringed, though his expression was more stunned than wounded. "Did you just _kick _me?" he asked, eyes wide open. Clara crossed her arms and replied as airily as she could, "That's right. And I'll do it again if you keep – _hey!_"

She stumbled backwards, the Doctor's hands pressed against her shoulders. It had been a light shove – perhaps a bit of gumption put into it – but it wasn't quite strong enough to really throw her off her guard. "Don't kick me!" the Doctor said indignantly. "You're not supposed to _kick _someone when you're _fighting verbally _with them –"

"Oh, and I suppose _you _would know because you're the _expert _at fighting – verbally – with – someone," Clara punctuated the last few words with defiant kicks. (The Doctor dodged most of them, but Clara was too frustrated with him to care.) The Doctor returned the gestures with another shove, only this one was a bit stronger.

And this time, Clara actually _did _topple backwards. Crying out, she grabbed at the Doctor's shoulders and fell back against the floor with a _thump. _Clara heard the Doctor sound as equally surprised as the two went down together, only to be quickly cut off with a moan as they bumped their heads against each other.

Clara felt the back of her skull numbing with pain. She cringed and blinked her eyes open, trying to dismiss the crowd of yellow spots blurring her vision. After a while, she was able to make out the Doctor on top of her, his arms only slightly supporting himself from above her. Her first instinct was to stare as he slowly adjusted himself atop Clara. Her second was to push him off of her.

"You just couldn't do _anything _right, could you?" Clara asked crossly instead. Her jaw stiffened into a frown and said, "Can you get _off _me?"

"You're still going to go on about that when my skull was nearly shattered to bits?" the Doctor inquired, narrowing his eyes down at Clara. The brunette crossed her arms (or tried to, anyways – it was hard to do with him on top of her and all,) and replied, "_Please_. Your skull's probably too thick to actually break apart."

The Doctor shook his head and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Clara's scowl deepened. "What did you say?" she asked waspishly. "No use in trying to –"

She was promptly cut off by a sudden kiss on her lips from the Doctor. Clara sucked in a quick breath, unsure how to respond. She was still angry with the Doctor – still utterly _annoyed _with him – but another part of her was…growing excited.

_Oh, sod it, _Clara thought hurriedly to herself. _You can project both. _

With that, Clara brought herself up on one elbow, all the while wrapping an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. She allowed the Doctor to travel his lips around her neck – her collarbone – her shoulders – her lips. In return, Clara would attack at his lips, occasionally murmuring quick retorts in between breaths.

"You are such – an – idiot," Clara whispered frantically, running her hands up and down the Doctor's back. She could feel him smile against her lips as he replied just as breathlessly, "And you're – too slow." Clara let her head drop back as the Doctor's light fingers started to comb through her hair. "Was that a suggestion?" she asked in a low voice, a small sigh only barely slithering out of her lips as she lowered herself down to the floor.

The Doctor seemed to take this move as a signal. With a teasing glint in his eye, he planted a light kiss against her neck. "You should think of it that way," he replied softly, his voice causing Clara to sink a bit lower (if possible) into the floor.

"Right then, Doctor," Clara replied, her hands playing over the Doctor's shoulders. She looked up to meet his eyes, an impish smile twitching over her lips. "I'll show you just how fast I can really be."

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><p><strong>AN - I don't really know what I meant at the last sentence. *Awkwardly fixes bowtie and giggles nervously* But...hey, you can create the rest with your imagination. XD (Plus, there aren't enough kiss stories for Whouffaldi. However, I've read one today which was actually rather good - it can be found in the latest chapter of _Song of the Stars _by MusicKeeper, titled _Wildest Dreams._) **

**Reviews are always great! I'll accept constructive criticism, but no flames, please! *cowers behind the Doctor* If you flame, the Doctor won't be too happy with you! **


End file.
